


Hidden Agendas

by angelic_amy



Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer (TV)
Genre: Action/Adventure, Angst, Drama, F/M, Hellmouth (BtVS), Romance, Spuffy, Sunnydale (BtVS)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-08-24
Updated: 2019-11-02
Packaged: 2020-09-25 06:29:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 11,385
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20372227
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/angelic_amy/pseuds/angelic_amy
Summary: Over the last few weeks Buffy's life has been turned upside down. Riley left her. Her Mom died. The hell-god Glory's attacks have in no way ceased. And now someone from the past has crept to town, someone with a grudge against the slayer and her pals. Someone wants Buffy dead. Set in Season 5 of the Buffy timeline, post Intervention. Originally Completed: 13th of October 2005Banner made by the wonderful and talented Bloodytearsoflife





	1. Watching

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: This story is inspired by and contains characters from "Buffy the Vampire Slayer," a series that is wholly the intellectual property of Mutant Enemy, Twentieth Century Fox and Joss Whedon. This story is written without permission, with no intent of infringement or expectation of profit. I am not making any money from this! No commercial and/or trade purpose is intended to infringe the copyrights registered by official parties.
> 
> Please don't archive anywhere else without permission.

  
  
**Chapter 1:** Watching

  
  
A pair of eyes watched her as she moved down the road, tracking her as she scoured the quiet street. Following no apparent path, she weaved in and out of side streets and alleys, constantly on the lookout.  
  
Hunting.  
  
She moved with the grace of a dancer, her laid back stance concealing her true nature. To those who were unfamiliar with this creature, she appeared to be an easy target, slight of frame and short in stature. But those who knew her, saw her for what she really was, her true self.  
  
A predator.  
  
Those caught unprepared suffered for it, and she used that knowledge to her advantage.  
  
Suddenly her pace slowed, as she approached the mouth of the alleyway. Turning slowly, she looked over her shoulder, studying the shadows. From his vantage point he knew it was unlikely he would be discovered, but still he lowered his body, blending in with the darkness as a precaution. A small knowing smile played across her face, as if she realized someone was watching her from the dark. Yet she didn’t pursue it. Moments later she was on the move again, her attention now focused on what lay ahead.  
  
The cold night wind ripped through his thin cotton shirt like a knife as he dropped from the roof top half a block away, landing on the ground without a sound. He knew that she’d sensed a presence but that did not deter him. He had a reason for being on the street tonight. As stealthily as possible he advanced on her position. It appeared he was not the only one who felt the cold, her shoulders trembled slightly as she shivered.  
  
Gusts of wind whipped down the alleyway, catching her long hair, which danced about her head as if it had a life of its own. Frustrated, she took a hair band from her wrist and secured it from her face, tying it in a low ponytail at the nape of her neck. Seemingly satisfied, she proceeded further into the alleyway.  
  
The smell hit her with the force of a knock from a quarterback. The dank stench of rotting food, mixed in with a little urine and the sharpness of whiskey overwhelmed the street. Each time the wind rose, so did the smell. Her nose crinkled in disgust as she found herself in the centre of it all.  
  
“Gross,” she muttered.  
  
He couldn’t help but chuckle quietly to himself as she tried to block the smell with one of the sleeves of her shirt. The smell didn’t bother him, he had the choice to block it out and it was one he wisely took.  
  
A lone streetlamp cast its small beam onto the concrete, lighting the path ahead a few meters. It was in this light that she found what she had been searching for; she had been hoping that she wouldn’t. Not finding it would have meant there was some chance things could work out for the better. But her discovery suggested otherwise. She had found it.  
  
The body.  
  
Crouching beside the pale young man she touched his neck, finding no pulse, his skin cool in comparison to her own. She was too late. Dropping her gaze for a moment, she pulled a short wooden shaft from her jeans pocket and twirled it in her hand. Moving away from the boy, she perched herself atop a stack of wooden pallets, waiting. She was not disappointed. Less than fifteen minutes passed before the inevitable happened. The body began to arise.  
  
Dropping from the crate, she stepped forward as he lifted himself to his feet. His head snapped towards her, a feral grin spreading across his face, his gaze staring from yellowed eyes. He made it a whole two steps forward before she plunged the wooden stake into his chest. Shock flashed across his face for a moment before his body exploded into ashes.  
  
“I’m sorry, Justin,” she whispered softly as she dropped her weapon to the ground. It clattered as it hit the pavement and rolled into the darkness.  
  
Stepping from the shadows behind her, the man who had been following her announced his presence. “Lost your weapon. Great plan there, luv. You’d better hope you don’t run into any beasties on your way home.”  
  
The young girl spun on the spot, a frown crossing her face. A hand lifted to her hip as she questioned him. “Spike, what are you doing here?”  
  
The bleach haired vampire removed his cigarettes and lighter from the inside pocket of his long black leather duster, and sparked one up. Inhaling deeply, he took a long drag before he finally responded.  
  
“Got bored sitting ‘round in my crypt, thought you might want some company,” he offered with a patented lift of his eyebrow.  
  
A look of realization dawned on her, which was quickly followed by an expression of disgust. “In your dreams, Spike.”  
  
“Always, Buffy,” he responded with a smirk.  
  
This rewarded him with a glare as she spun on her heel and walked through the alleyway and out the other end, headed in the direction of one of Sunnydale’s many cemeteries. He waited a few moments before following after her. In truth he did have some information to share that she might be interested in, he just liked watching her squirm.  
  
“Hey, wait up,” he called as he picked up his pace. He fell in line beside her, quickly finished his cigarette and flicked it away, before extinguishing it with a firm stomp of his boot.  
  
His face was mottled with bruises, and his right eye was still slightly swollen from a few nights ago. Glory had almost killed him, tortured him for hours, and he had let her do it. He had resisted giving her the one thing she wanted. The identity of the key. Dawn. Had Buffy forgotten that already? He sure as hell hadn’t. And he hadn’t forgotten her visit to his crypt that night either.  
  
Pretending to be the robot version of herself, she had slyly questioned him, extracting the information she wanted. She had needed to know her sister was safe. And Spike had bought it, thinking he was in fact talking to the robot. That was until she’d kissed him. The feel of her lips on his had given away the truth. And she had thanked him. He couldn’t deny that his hope that one day something may happen between them grew in that moment, but for now he was content with her gratitude. The chance that love would blossom between them was a slim one, he knew that, but it wasn’t going to lessen his efforts to prove himself to her. He wasn’t on a schedule here. Eternity stretched before him. He just had to be patient, something he wasn’t renowned for. But he could learn.  
  
A man can change…  
  
“What’s the hurry Slayer, you got a hot date tonight?” he inquired, trying his best not to sound jealous, and feeling that he failed miserably.  
  
Buffy stopped in her tracks and her face fell for a moment, and he instantly regretted his words. Soldier boy Riley Finn had only left a few weeks ago, and she was obviously still feeling the sting from that loss. Whilst Spike was glad the guy was gone and out of the slayer’s life, he knew that Buffy missed him being around, even though she didn’t mention him much. Actually, that was probably the biggest indicator. The momentary sadness in her eyes was quickly replaced with anger and he tried to apologise.  
  
“I didn’t mean—”  
  
“Save your breath,” she interrupted. “I’ve got work to do.”  
  
She began marching off on him again and he reached out to slow her, grabbing her arm at the elbow. “Buffy,” he urged, trying to stop her.  
  
She responded by snatching her arm away from him and slamming her elbow up into his already battered face. Spike swore under his breath, a hand reaching up to touch his face, hissing when he realized his nose was bleeding. Again.  
  
“Leave me alone Spike.”  
  
The Slayer walked off into the night, leaving the vampire behind clutching at his re-broken nose.

~*~*~

The key slipped easily into the lock and twisted silently. Buffy opened the front door and stepped inside, dropping her satchel on the floor as she closed the door behind her. It hit the floorboards with a _THUNK_ and she instantly regretted being so careless. She might have woken Dawn.  
  
Ascending the stairs to the bedrooms she passed by Dawn’s room and pressed herself up against the door, listening for any sounds of movement. All she heard were her sister’s quiet snores. Feeling relief and a little more relaxed, she continued down the hall to her bedroom.  
  
Once inside, she began peeling the layers of her dust coated clothing off until she was standing in her underwear. A loose singlet replaced her bra, which she combined with a pair of pyjama pants. She combed her hair, looking at her tired reflection in the mirror, wondering why people even bothered going outside at night anymore.  
  
It had been a quiet night for patrolling, something that was uncharacteristic of Sunnydale. But the night had not been uneventful. Two stakings, one a newborn… Justin. Buffy had been walking past the Espresso Pump when a girl had ran screaming from an alleyway, calling for her boyfriend who had been attacked. Buffy had tried to calm the girl before she’d taken off in the direction the terrified girl had pointed out. After a few hours had passed with no sign of him, Buffy had feared the worst, which she subsequently stumbled upon in that alleyway. No body meant she couldn’t explain his disappearance to his girlfriend, he’d just never turn up. The girl was going to be devastated.  
  
Buffy sighed, wondering again why people continued to flock to the town. But she knew why; high mortality rates meant that property prices were low, which encouraged all types to settle down here, and most never saw the darker side until it was too late. To the ignorant it was a picturesque settlement. Yet, to the enlightened, it was seen as a sleepy town by day and a dangerous place to venture at night. Her hometown sure had its quirks.  
  
Sunnydale was located on top of a Hellmouth, which acted as a beacon attracting all types of creatures, some more dangerous than others. Tonight she had only come across vampires.  
  
Yawning, Buffy stretched her arms out over her head and then padded over to her bed. Drawing back the blankets, she slipped in between the sheets and switched off her bedside lamp, plunging the room into darkness. She closed her eyes and slowly drifted off to sleep.

~*~*~

Spike hadn’t meant to bring up Soldier Boy, hadn’t meant to cause her pain. But he had. And the effect of his completely innocent words had shown immediately. After the elbow to his nose, he had intended on catching up with her and giving her a piece of his mind. And he’d almost caught up with her a few minutes after she’d run off, a biting comment on the tip of his tongue. Then he noticed how dejected she looked. Her shoulders were slumped and she just looked…. defeated. So, instead of starting another war of the words, Spike had hung back and watched her as she made her way home.  
  
Which is where he was now… on her front lawn. He watched from the shadows of the trees as she slipped inside her house.  
  
Three cigarettes later her bedroom light switched off. Spike turned on his heel and began walking back to his crypt.

~*~*~

_Buffy stood amongst a field of daisies. Dawn was running ahead, laughing as she collected a bouquet of the pretty flowers. “Come on, Buffy,” she called, her laughter ringing out again._  
  
_Giving chase, the Slayer weaved in and out of the flowers, following the sound of her sister’s mirth. But the faster she pursued Dawn, the further away she became. “Dawn, slow down…” Buffy called, but her sister didn’t respond, she just laughed some more._  
  
_Panic rose within Buffy, her heart thumping against her rib cage as she began to frantically search for her sister. Her arms pumped up and down as she ran faster and faster, until she began to feel nauseous from the speed. The flowers lifted from their roots and began spinning around her, the momentum growing as her panic rose. It felt as if the world was moving like a jumping castle, her feet sinking into the earth with every third step as the ground gave way. The strength of the shaking worsened and Buffy’s panic raised a notch._  
  
Earthquake…_ her panic stricken mind screamed at her. She had to find her sister and get her to safety. _  
  
_“Dawn! Where are you?”_  
  
_A scream rang out and everything stopped. The world stopped shaking and the daisies fell from the sky, falling like missiles as they hit the ground. Then she saw her up ahead. Dawn was standing a few feet in front of her, and Buffy gasped in terror when the reality of what she was seeing hit her._  
  
_Dawn was clutching at her abdomen, pain etched across her face. She lifted a hand to examine it and found it to be covered in blood. Fear etched across her face as her hand fell limp beside her leg. “Buffy,” she whispered, her voice strangled in her throat as she gasped for air. Her eyes rolled back into her head and she collapsed in a heap amongst the ripped up daisies._  
  
_“DAWN!” Buffy screamed, as she dropped to the ground beside her sister._

~*~*~

Buffy’s eyes flashed open and she instantly knew something wasn’t right. She moved to her side and almost rolled over a shoe. _What is a shoe doing in my bed…?_ she thought for a moment, before she realized that she wasn’t in her bed anymore. She was on the floor. She’d tossed and turned so much in her sleep she’d thrown herself out of the bed.  
  
Using her elbows to lift herself into a seated position, she tried to recall the details of her nightmare. The images were slowly beginning to fade, but the look of terror on her sister’s face stuck with her. The expression, that look… it had been _too_ real.  
  
Wanting to ease her worries, Buffy slipped out of her bedroom and walked down the hall to her sister’s room, opening the door slightly. Dawn was sound asleep. Closing the door she tiptoed back to her room, fixed her blankets, and climbed back into bed.

~*~*~

Buffy wasn’t the only personally not sleeping well. Alone in his crypt in Restfield Cemetery, Spike tossed in his bed, haunted by his dreams.

~*~*~

_“Buffy, I love you,” he declared. He waited anxiously for her reaction; even though his mind screamed for him to turn on his heel and run before the inevitable train wreck that would be her response arrived. He needed to know the truth, needed to hear it from her. And the truth he got. Buffy tipped her head back, golden hair cascading over her shoulders, and laughed._  
  
_“You have _got_ to be kidding me, Spike. I mean, come on, what on earth made you think that YOU would have any chance with ME?” she replied.___  
  
_Dropping his gaze to the floor he started to stammer, and when he looked up again he found himself on his knees, crouched before a brunette in a white and lavender silk dress, hair up in a quaff, and wearing long white silk gloves on her hands._  
  
_“Whatever gave you the idea that your affections would be returned William?” said the haughty voice._  
  
_“My poems, you knew they were about you yet you did nothing to discourage me,” he spoke softly. “Please, I have better ones, let me read something to you.”_  
  
_The brunette stood up and waved him off. “William, I do not want your affections. I do notice you, and I cringe. You are beneath me.”_  
  
_“Cecily,” came his breathy voice, on the verge of tears. But she was gone._  
  
_Another brunette woman, appeared from the shadows, and she smiled at him, her yellowed eyes fixated on his neck._  
  
_“The stars are singing to me and they tell me the pretty yellow bird is going to lose her wings.”_  
  
_William raised to his feet and ran off._

_ __ _

~*~*~

Spike sat up in his double bed and rubbed at his forehead, as if trying to brush away the remnants of the dream. “Bloody hell.”

~*~*~

A pair of eyes watched from the shadows, peering into the double story house on Revello Drive. The Slayer was sleeping soundly in her bed, completely unaware as to what was happening right beneath her nose. All of the pieces were falling into place… it was just a matter of time before all the elements that were required, aligned. And when that happened, it would be time.  
  
The slayer would die.  
  
Soon.


	2. Regret

**Chapter 2:** Regret

  
  
Sunrise came and went, yet the Summers house remained silent. The postman delivered the mail, a concerned neighbour dropped by with a care package, and the phone rang three times. But no-one stirred.  
  
When Dawn finally awoke, it was after ten and she was _very_ late for school. She rushed into Buffy’s room and shook her sister, trying to wake her. Buffy stirred and rolled over, burying her face in her pillows. Frustrated, the younger Summers walked over to the window and opened the blinds. That gained a reaction.  
  
“Dawn, go back to bed, it’s too early,” Buffy mumbled through the pillow blocking the sunlight from her eyes.  
  
“Buffy, it’s after ten,” Dawn replied.  
  
That got Buffy’s attention. She sat bolt upright in her bed and reached for her alarm clock. Dawn was right. They had both slept through their alarms, or in Buffy’s case, forgotten to set it in the first place.  
  
“Oh my god, Dawn, you’re late for school,” she gasped as she pulled herself from bed and walked over to her closet to fish out some clothing, just something to wear whilst she drove Dawn to school. Normally she wouldn’t resort to such drastic action, everyone who knew her knew _just_ how badly she drove, but Dawn was more than just a little bit late.  
  
“I know,” came the slow response. “So… maybe I could just stay home for the day, you know, spend some time with just the two of us?”  
  
Buffy stopped the frantic foraging she was doing in her closet and turned to look at her younger sister. Hope filled her eyes, accompanied by a little uncertainty. Ever since… since… God, Buffy couldn’t even finish the thought. Ever since _IT_ happened, they hadn’t had many opportunities to spend time together, just the two of them. People were always coming over to check up on them.  
  
“Well, I suppose you are _really_ late…” Buffy started.  
  
Dawn lunged forward and dragged her sister into a tight embrace, hugging her around the neck. “This is going to be soooo cool!” she exclaimed excitedly. “We can go to the Magic Box, and hang with the gang!”  
  
Returning the hug, Buffy eventually had to peel Dawn’s arms away from her neck. “Sounds good, but if we’re going anywhere then we both need to shower first.”  
  
“Yeah, you really stink,” Dawn commented.  
  
Buffy’s jaw dropped. Sure, she hadn’t had the chance to shower when she got home from patrol last night, but she didn’t think she smelled _that_ bad! Dawn saw the look of shock on Buffy’s face and laughed.  
  
“You smell like grass stains and dirt, nothing major in terms of whiff factor,” she clarified.  
  
Pushing Dawn out of her room, Buffy smiled. Dawn was cracking jokes; this was a good thing. The house hadn’t been the same since… since Mom. But if Dawn was cracking jokes, then she must be okay-ish. Grabbing her dressing gown she darted for the bathroom door.  
  
“Beat you to the shower!” Buffy cried as she slammed the door quickly.  
  
Dawn pouted and returned to her room to pick out an outfit for the day.

  


~*~*~

  


“Giles, it _really_ shook me up,” Buffy said fidgeting in the chair she was sitting on. “It was _so_ real.”  
  
Giles removed his glasses and wiped them with his handkerchief before returning them to the bridge of his nose. To say he was intrigued was an understatement. Buffy was known to have dreams of a prophetic nature, but he wasn’t certain this was one of them. With everything that had happened of late, it might just be her mind panicking about the possibility of more loss. But telling her not to worry was not going to satisfy his slayer.  
  
“Buffy, it was a horrible nightmare, yes, but I’m not altogether certain it is one of your prophetic dreams. Do you think possibly it could just be your fears for Dawn’s safety have filtered into your dreams? Glory is still out there, and she hasn’t shown any sign of letting up on her search for the key.”  
  
Buffy shrugged her shoulders, standing up. She began pacing the room as she considered Giles’ suggestion. It wasn’t a far stretch, and she had been a little high strung of late considering all that had happened over the last month… and she certainly didn’t need to take a trip down memory lane right now.  
  
“Maybe you’re right,” she agreed with a sigh. “I guess I have been a little on edge lately—”  
  
“With due reason,” Giles interrupted.  
  
Buffy nodded slowly as she stopped pacing and turned to look at her watcher. “Giles, if anything was to happen to Dawn, I don’t know what—”  
  
“_Nothing_ is going to happen to Dawn,” he interrupted again, his tone firm yet at the same time comforting. “We’ll look after her,” he promised, a gentle smile crossing his face.  
  
The bell attached to entrance door of the shop tinkled, signalling someone had entered, and Buffy was immediately on the defensive. Moments later she relaxed. It was just a young woman. A young woman who was _not_ Glory. Deciding she needed to burn off some of her pent up energy, she headed towards the training room.  
  
Giles nodded letting her know he would come get her if she was needed.  
  
“Welcome to the Magic Box. Please buy lots of things and give me your money,” Anya greeted, a beaming smile stretched across her face.  
  
The potential customer eyed Anya with an expression of distrust before she began wandering about the shop, picking up and touching items. Giles couldn’t hide his amusement, grinning at the look of confusion on Anya’s face.  
  
“I was friendly and polite, and encouraged her to buy things. Why does she look at me with such distrust?” Anya asked, mystified by the woman’s reaction.  
  
Giles was about to explain to her that maybe she was a little too eager about telling the customers to part with their money, when the bell on the door tinkled again. The person that entered didn’t look to be the friendliest guy on the planet. To be accurate, he wasn’t actually a person. He was a demon, and he appeared to be carrying not one, but three swords in his four arms, while the other hefted a large bag.  
  
“Buffy, would you care to join us out her for a moment please?” Giles called over his shoulder calmly, not tearing his eyes away from the demon.  
  
The slayer appeared from the back room, stretching her arms as she moved into the room toward her watcher's side. The young woman who had been browsing dropped the statuette she had been holding and ran screaming from the shop.  
  
“Hey! That’s a one of a kind!” Anya yelled indignantly as she walked over to pick up the pieces. _Perhaps Willow could fix it later…_  
  
“By the looks of all the swords I’m guessing not the friendly variety,” Buffy quipped with a hint of sarcasm to Giles. She picked up a dagger from the counter beside the register.  
  
“Try not to damage the blade, I have a potential buyer for that expensive knife,” Anya’s voice sang out.  
  
Buffy rolled her eyes then took a few steps towards the demon. His skin was ice blue, almost transparent, and it looked like it would shatter when it was touched. _Here’s hoping…_ she thought idly. He was sort of humanoid in appearance, if you could forgive the two pairs of arms, and the razor sharp teeth that looked like ice picks that hung from his gaping maw of a mouth.  
  
The three arms carrying swords snaked about his body in an almost hypnotic fashion, each blade coming close, but never touching him, or each other. The fourth arm carrying the large bag finally seemed to give up and dropped it to the ground, a loud clanging noise ringing out on impact.  
  
Buffy had seen enough, this guy looked dangerous.  
  
“You had to come indoors for this? Why can’t you demons ever start a fight _outside_ where there is less chance of damaging valuable merchandise?” Anya demanded.  
  
The slayer took two quick steps forward and launched herself feet first at the demon, the force of her kick knocking him in the chest and sending him flying back towards the door the had entered through. Buffy flipped in the air and landed on her feet a few feet from the demon, switched the blade from her right hand to her left, and balled her right fist. She retracted her arm to swing forward and was about to send the punch when something smashed through the front window of the shop. Something covered in a smoking blanket.  
  
“Spike!?” Buffy cried incredulously. “Don’t you have anything better to do?”  
  
Spike rolled away from the light that shone in from the shattered window, and threw the blanket off his shoulders. He stood up, straightening his jacket and grinned at Buffy.  
  
“Oh come on Slayer, aren’t you the least bit intrigued why I’m smashin’ through windows in broad daylight? I haven’t got a death wish.”  
  
“Could’ve fooled me,” Buffy spat back. “Breaking the windows in the Magic Box with _Anya_ inside?”  
  
“Hey!” Anya cried indignantly, before shrugging her shoulders when she realized that Buffy had a point. “I’ll invoice you.”  
  
Spike brushed it off. It wasn’t like he had any money to pay for it anyway. He opened his mouth to speak but Buffy cut him off.  
  
“NO, Spike, I don’t want to hear it.”  
  
She sighed in frustration; she couldn’t believe Spike’s uncanny timing. The demon was beginning to lift itself to its feet, and was trying to gather its swords. Keeping her eyes on Spike, she slammed her right elbow backwards into the demon’s face, knocking him to the floor once more.  
  
“Can’t you see I’m kinda busy here,” she added with a grimace.  
  
“He’s not evil,” Spike announced in an almost sing-song voice, pointing at the demon sprawled on the ground.  
  
“Pfft,” she responded. “You expect me to believe that he’s not—”  
  
“Don’t believe me, pet? Take a look at him.”  
  
Buffy looked over her shoulder at the slumped form of the demon. He had reached into his pocket and pulled out a business card, and was extending it in her direction.  
  
“Thorak designs,” she read aloud.  
  
“Oh dear lord,” came a voice from behind her. Giles walked up next to her and took the business card from her hands. “My new weapons supplier!”  
  
Buffy looked aghast at Giles. “And you didn’t think to mention this little detail to me _before_ I started pounding his face?”  
  
Giles shrugged apologetically. “I thought Thorak was a Cheplov demon, not a Vistagree. My apologies for my mistake,” he offered to the demon who had now lifted himself to his feet.  
  
“No apology necessary,” came his reply. His voice was kind of haggard, which might be in part due to the walloping that Buffy gave him. “Happens all the time. Well, it’s not normally a slayer that’s laying into me, but the getting beaten up is kind of familiar.”  
  
“I tried to tell you about him last night, but you were _too_ busy poundin’ my face to listen,” Spike snorted.  
  
He lifted himself up onto a bench and lit up a cigarette, taking a long, hard drag of it. He continued his smart assed remarks with a raised eyebrow. “Why else do you think I was followin’ you last night?”  
  
Buffy rolled her eyes and turned to face the Visagoo… or something, demon that was Giles’ new supplier. “I am so sorry. If I had known I never would have—”  
  
The demon raised a hand to shush her. “No apology necessary. I’m just excited to finally meet the Chosen One. Even if it was a fist first introduction.”  
  
Spike rolled his eyes, and Buffy blushed slightly.  
  
“I do apologise for the fright I must have given you all. I am aware of my appearance, but I insist that I am no more dangerous than a fly,” the demon assured.  
  
“What sort of fly?” Anya’s voice piped up.  
  
“Ah… so. New supplier for the Magic Box then, these your wares?” Buffy inquired as she picked up a blade and examined it. “It really is exquisite work.”  
  
The demon bowed his head in acceptance. “Yes, they are mine. Made from four different metals and pounded with the hammer of a troll, and then finally blessed by mute Nepalese Nuns.”  
  
When the look of awe flashed across both Buffy and Giles’ faces simultaneously, he couldn’t help but grin. “Well, the nun part isn’t true but the rest of it is. The name’s Thorak,” he introduced, offering and arm to both of them.  
  
“Nice to meet you, Thorak. Rupert Giles, proprietor of the Magic Box. And you’ve met Buffy.”  
  
A voice huh-humphed from the other side of the shop.  
  
“How could I forget,” he said dryly. “This is Anya, my sales assistant.”  
  
“Pleasure to meet you, Thorak,” Anya beamed. “Your weapons are going to bring in more patrons and thus further increase our profits. We are very grateful.” She shook his hand vigorously.  
  
The bell on the door tinkled and four worried faces walked through the door. Xander walked in first and his eyes went from the swords littered across the floor, then to the smashed window, and finally to the very large blue demon leaning ominously over his girlfriend.  
  
Willow, Tara and Dawn followed, all of them with jaws gaping and anxious looks plastered across their faces.  
  
“Demon!” Xander yelled as he snatched a blade from the ground and charged towards it. “Get away from my girlfriend,” he threatened.  
  
“Or what, you’ll glare him to death?” Spike quipped, a large grin spreading across his face. “No let me guess, you’ll let him beat you to a pulp and then when he’s worn out you’ll kick him in the shins.”  
  
“Shut up Spike!” Xander fumed, stopping to glare at the vampire.  
  
“Oooh...” Spike mocked.  
  
“Xander,” Buffy interrupted. “Met Thorak, our new _weapons supplier_.”  
  
“Weapons supplier? You mean…” Xander looked from Buffy, then to Giles who had removed his glasses and was nodding slowly. Realising his mistake he smiled bashfully, his demeanour returning to his more laid back normalness. “Nice to have you on board,” Xander greeted, dropping the blade and stepping protectively beside Anya, wrapping an arm around her shoulders.  
  
Willow and Tara moved further into the shop, stepping over the many sharp objects on the floor and headed towards the table in the centre of the room. They placed their books to one side of the mountain that already covered most of the tabletops surface. Research. All of it on Glory. And they still hadn’t uncovered anything new. Hopefully the new books the two Wiccan’s had tracked down would yield some usable information.  
  
Buffy walked over to the table where her friends sat and pulled up a seat beside them. The both looked exhausted but at the same time content in each other’s presence. They seemed happy. Which made Buffy happy.  
  
“So, what’s the sitch?” she asked with a grin.  
  
Willow returned the smile as she flipped open one of the new texts. “Well, we managed to get a hold of those books we were talking about the other day. Fingers crossed they’re helpful.”  
  
The red haired Wiccan crossed her fingers on both hands before unlocking them to flip through the pages. Xander had managed to drag Anya away from Thorak and was busy helping her pick up the pieces from Spike’s ungraceful and extremely damaging entrance. The vampire in question was still sitting on the counter top, watching everyone with a small smirk playing on his lips, as if he saw something or knew something that they all didn’t. With Giles smoothing out everything with his new supplier, Buffy was free. Free to spend some time with her sister, who was currently standing around looking bored.  
  
“How do you feel about getting some lunch Dawnie?” Buffy asked.  
  
The excited smile on her sister’s face was all the response she needed. Returning the expression Buffy grabbed her jacket and bag and moved toward the door.  
  
“I’ll check in later after patrol,” she called over her shoulder to Giles.


	3. Discovery

**Chapter 3:** Discovery

  
  
“I’m sorry Dawn, something’s come up. Maybe tomorrow?” Buffy suggested of their planned vid-fest for the night.  
  
Dawn just nodded slowly, trying not to appear to be too upset. Why should she? She’d spent the entire day with her sister, something they hadn’t done in she couldn’t remember how long. The movies could wait. Dawn wasn’t going anywhere.  
  
“I’ll see you later?” she asked hopefully.  
  
“Definitely. I’ll be home in a few hours. Don’t wait up.” Buffy leaned forward and kissed her sister on the forehead as she approached the door. “Don’t stay up too late.”  
  
And then she was gone. Dawn sighed when the door closed and began moving up to her room.

  


~*~*~

  


Buffy looked at her watch and decided she had waited long enough. Spike had said to meet near his crypt at nine-thirty, and it was almost ten o’clock. Fed up, she dropped down from the headstone she had perched herself upon and began wandering towards the exit to the cemetery. _What a waste of time that was…_ she thought as she walked along the path.  
  
He’d been hanging around a lot of late, showing up on patrols, at the Magic Box, at her house. Just being around. _That’s because he is in love with you…_ a little voice inside her head reminded. She caught herself wondering for a moment if he was just held up or if he’d gotten himself into some sort of trouble again. And then she questioned why she cared. Because she didn’t… he was the one who had feelings for her.  
  
A rustling noise of movement came from the other side of a nearby crypt, and Buffy immediately took on a defensive stance and pressed herself flat against the tomb. The hair on the back of her neck stood up on end. _Not a mourner, at least not a human one._ Quietly removing a stake from her pocket, she balanced it in the palm of her right hand and waited for the creature to step forward within striking range. A few seconds later she sprang from her hiding place and drove the stake downward toward the creature’s heart.  
  
A pair of hands reached up to block her thrust, and a brown paper bag dropped to the ground, spilling its items.  
  
“Hold up there, luv,” a familiar voice spoke. “Can’t you tell the difference between a friend or foe?”  
  
“You're not a friend Spike,” Buffy retorted.  
  
A wounded expression flickered across his face for a moment, before being replaced by his usual cocky swagger. He knelt down to gather his shopping, stuffing it all back into the bag.  
  
“Why did you call me, Spike?” Buffy asked impatiently.  
  
“Hang on a bleedin’ moment pet, let me gather my stuff.”  
  
Buffy rolled her eyes and crossed her arms over her chest as she waited for Spike to do just that.  
  
“I heard some information you might be interested in.”  
  
She tapped her foot impatiently on the ground, wondering if he was dragging this out on purpose.  
  
“Keep your knickers on,” he reprimanded. The corners of his mouth curled up slightly; as if he only just realized the words he'd spoken. “Or not…”  
  
“Enough!” Buffy shouted, storming off from him.  
  
“A hit’s planned for tonight, an innocent is in danger,” he called out clearly, knowing that would make her stop. And it did. She turned on her heel slowly and looked at him suspiciously.  
  
“A hit?”  
  
“I was down at Willy’s and a few demons were big-notin’ about the payout they were going to receive once they completed the job. Tonight,” he explained further.  
  
“Tonight, where?” she persisted.  
  
“The Arms. The guy with the price on his head is stayin’ there.”  
  
Buffy whirled around from him again and began to walk towards the seedier side of town.  
  
“Hey, wait up, I gotta put my blood in the fridge,” Spike called after her.  
  
When she showed no sign of slowing he dropped the bag in the bushes and ran to catch up with her.  
  
“Bollocks.”

  


~*~*~

  


“If my stuff gets nicked I’ll—”  
  
“You’ll what, Spike? Glare at me?” Buffy mocked with a raised eyebrow.  
  
Spike glared back at her for a moment, then stepped forward towards the door. “This is the room,” he announced.  
  
Buffy lifted an arm to stop him before he got there. “If the person living here is alive, then you won’t be able to get in,” she reminded.  
  
Spike grimaced but held his position, waiting for Buffy to enter first. She stepped up to the door and it was at this close range that she realized the person staying there must have already had a visitor tonight. The door had been forced open; half of the locking mechanism had been ripped from the frame.  
  
Buffy pushed it open slowly, trying not to dislodge the door from its hinges. The smell hit her instantly, and she wrinkled her nose up in disgust. Lifting an arm up she covered her mouth and nose with a sleeve and stepped further into the room.  
  
Spike entered in behind her, giving a low whistle at the sight. “Somebody had himself a whole lot of fun,” he commented appreciatively at the destruction.  
  
“Spike, please,” Buffy replied in disgust.  
  
Body parts were strewn across the whole room, and green tinged blood was splashed across the floor, the walls, and the bed. Weapons, swords to be more precise, were also scattered about the room, impaled in the walls or body parts. Body parts that were slightly blue in colour.  
  
“Oh god, Thorak,” Buffy identified.  
  
“Thor-who?” Spike repeated.  
  
“Thorak. Giles’ new weapons dealer. I think this is him,” she deduced, crouching down to look at an the torso.  
  
“Damn,” Spike muttered. “What a way to go, cut up by your own merchandise.” He too leaned down to inspect the damage. “Clean wounds. His blades are well made.”  
  
Standing upright he stepped over a leg and reached for a short sword that was imbedded in the wall, impaling an arm there. He pulled it clear from the wall with one tug, and then pushed the limb free, sending it to the floor with a thud.  
  
“Who could have done this?” Buffy asked, already trying to profile a suspect.  
  
“Not just any demon, Vistagree’s are a tough breed. It would need to be something with a lot of bulk behind them. Or a group with a lot of combined muscle,” replied Spike.  
  
“I’m sorry, Thorak,” Buffy apologised as she continued sifting through the contents of the room.  
  
Spike began gathering the weapons and returning them to the large duffel that he’d seen them in earlier that day.  
  
“What do you think you’re doing?” Buffy demanded. “You’re going to _STEAL_ his weapons?”  
  
Spike paused what he was doing, then shrugged his shoulders and continued filling the bag. “Not like he’s going to use them,” he pointed out, nodding toward to a limb. “And it’s prob’ly not a good idea to leave them for… oh say, some kiddie to find?”  
  
Buffy realized he had a point and reluctantly began to help him gather the weapons. Once they were all removed from the room it made it a lot easier to count the body pieces… and it was then that Buffy realized that something was missing.  
  
“Spike,” she called.  
  
“Hmmm?”  
  
“Where’s his head?”

  


~*~*~

  


Giles rubbed at his temple, trying to massage away the headache that was plaguing him, but it wasn’t working. The headache was brought on by the information that Buffy had just delivered. He was never going to find that sort of quality for such a cheap price. And it was a shame about Thorak, he seemed to be a genuinely nice demon.  
  
Spike dumped the large duffel on to the Watcher’s desk, sending a stack of books falling to the ground. He shrugged his shoulders nonchalantly and unzipped the bag.  
  
“We scored the merchandise for you, Rupert old boy.”  
  
“Not _we_. It was Spike’s idea,” Buffy clarified glaring at the vampire. “The weapons couldn’t just be left lying around like that…” she trailed off.  
  
“You say his head was missing? Intriguing. It could be ritualistic.”  
  
“Intriguing?” Buffy repeated. “Don’t you mean gross and disturbing.”  
  
“It wasn’t ritualistic,” Spike piped up. “Looked like a hack and slash job to me, and I should know.”  
  
Giles pondered on that thought. “Perhaps the killer, or killers, took his head as proof. A trophy of sorts for whoever ordered the hit.”  
  
“Again, I say gross,” Buffy shuddered.  
  
Giles was still deep in thought, theories flying in and out of his brain. Buffy waited patiently for a few moments, but when he still didn’t say anything she waved her hand in front of his face.  
  
“Earth to Giles, it’s getting kinda late. I’ll check in tomorrow at the shop?” she proposed.  
  
When Giles nodded and walked over to his bookshelf and pulled out a few volumes, Buffy waved goodbye and walked out of his apartment.

  


~*~*~

  


Buffy was about halfway home when Spike fell into step with her. They walked silently for a few minutes before Buffy got sick of the shadow act and stopped. Spike stopped as well.  
  
“Why are you following me Spike?” she asked tiredly.  
  
He looked confused. “I was just—”  
  
“Just what?” she interrupted. “Walking me home? I don’t need a bodyguard.”  
  
“It’s just that things are different now,” he said slowly.  
  
“_THINGS_ are not different Spike. They’re the same. You’re still a hugs pain in the ass.”  
  
Hurt flashed across his face again, for the second time tonight. “It _IS_ different,” he insisted.  
  
“All that has changed is that you have gotten it into your head that you have a chance with me. Spike, nothing is _EVER_ going to happen between us. Get the hint,” Buffy retorted with exasperation.  
  
“But I _have_ changed,” he maintained. “I’m a different man now.”  
  
“That’s just it Spike, you’re _NOT_ a man. You’re a vampire.”  
  
Spike brushed off the comment. “That didn’t seem to matter with Angel,” he reminded.  
  
Buffy’s raised her hand and slapped him across the cheek. “How dare you compare this… this infatuation you have with me; to my relationship with Angel. There is _NO_ comparison.”  
  
“You’re right… no comparison. I’d actually be able to _give_ you what you need,” Spike said lewdly, grabbing Buffy and pulling her body flush against his. “No pesky curse in the way.”  
  
Buffy struck out at Spike again, this time balling her fist and punching him in the jaw. “You're a pig. Stay the hell away from me, I mean it.”  
  
Buffy turned her back on the vampire and stormed home, leaving him behind.  
  
Spike watched her walk off, shocked by her actions for a moment, before his expression hardened.  
  
“I’ll show her.”

  


~*~*~

  


Buffy slipped into her house and leaned up against the closed door. She breathed deeply for a few seconds, trying to control the rage that was boiling up inside of her. How could he think that she would ever want to be with him? It _wasn’t_ going to happen.  
  
She was so angry that she could feel herself trembling. He had no right to judge her relationship with Angel, or Riley, or whomever she chose to date. It was none of his business.  
  
His words from a few weeks ago haunted her. _Maybe you just can’t keep their interest…_  
  
Buffy’s shoulders shook as she began to cry, slowly slumping to the floor.


	4. Deceit

**Chapter 4:** Deceit

  
  
The following few nights came and went, nothing really out of the ordinary. Patrol was slow, a few vamps, but that was it. No demons. No more dead bodies. And no Spike.  
  
It was as if he’d gone into hiding. Most likely, he would be found drinking at one of the towns demon watering holes, or lounging about in his crypt. But he’d kept away from Buffy. Which was what she had asked.  
  
Buffy looked at her appearance in the mirror and smiled, twisting around so that she could get the full scope. She felt good. Her new green backless halter fit her nice and snug, and was secured tightly around her neck. A long denim skirt went well with her new black heels. Her hair was pulled back from her face, but left to cascade down her back. She was wearing the new hair clips Dawn had bought her as a belated birthday present, and with a minimal amount of make-up she was ready.  
  
Willow and Xander had suggested the night out. They said she needed a night to just relax. “_You deserve some fun_,” they had said. And a small part of her agreed with them. But the majority of her believed she should be patrolling, or searching for Glory.  
  
The doorbell chimed and Buffy gave her appearance a quick once over before she left her bedroom and began descending the stairs.  
  
“It’s Janice’s mom Buffy,” Dawn called out. “Have a nice night!”  
  
Dawn rushed from the living room and then stopped when she saw Buffy at the foot of the stairs. “You look beautiful,” she complimented, a smile on her face.  
  
“Really?” Buffy questioned. “I’m not so sure about the skirt.”  
  
“You look great. Go, have fun, talk to boys!” Dawn giggled.  
  
Buffy grimaced and gave her sister a quick hug before shoving her out the door. “I’ve got my cell phone if you need me.”  
  
Dawn nodded and left the house, running to the car that was waiting for her on the street. A few seconds later the vehicle pulled away from the curb and Buffy was alone on her doorstep. She fetched her keys from the kitchen, slipped a black leather jacket on, and left the house.

  


~*~*~

  


Spike watched Buffy leave her house from the shadows of the garden. His plan had been to confront her about the other night, to give her a piece of his mind. But then he saw her and that plan got thrown out the window. She looked gorgeous. His first thought was to go up to her and compliment her, and the second thought—which followed a split-second later—was one of jealousy, wondering who it was that she had gotten so dressed up for.  
  
He cursed silently to himself, dropped the cigarette he had just finished and took off after her, keeping a safe distance behind.

  


~*~*~

  


The Bronze was packed. The loners, the popular, the geeks, and the jocks all mingled together, fighting for their own space in the crowded club. Buffy walked by the security on the door and inside, immediately searching for Willow and Xander. She figured they would probably be at their usual table, so she started to walk in that direction. Sure enough, there they were, Anya and Tara were also with them.  
  
Buffy waved to them all as she pushed through the crowd. She removed her jacket and placed it on her seat before sitting down.  
  
“Boy, it’s packed in here tonight!” Buffy exclaimed.  
  
Willow nodded, sipping her drink through its straw. “It was kind of sudden. It got really busy about half an hour ago.”  
  
Xander turned his attention from whatever Anya had been whispering into his ear to the new arrival at the table, and his eyes nearly popped out of his head.  
  
“WOW, Buffy, you trying to give me cardiac arrest!?” Xander commented as he eyed his friend appreciatively.  
  
The comment warranted a slap on the shoulder from Anya, and Xander gave her a look of apology, before flashing Buffy a grin as if to reiterate his point. Anya turned her glare from Xander to Buffy and looked as if she was going to issue a warning, but she held back.  
  
“That’s my doing, I told her to dress nice because I was bringing a friend from my sociology class tonight whose been _dying_ to meet her!” Willow beamed.  
  
Tara nodded in agreement. “His name’s Jake and he’s really nice.”  
  
Anya smiled confidently. “A man who is not Xander. This is a good plan. You should flirt with him,” she said eagerly. “With the new guy.”  
  
Buffy tried not to laugh at the reactions of her friends. She knew she wasn’t quite ready for a new relationship yet, but there was no harm in meeting new people. There was also the fact that she had no choice in the matter; Willow had threatened to bring him over to the house if she didn’t show tonight.  
  
She scanned the club, trying to figure out which one was Jake.  
  
“Oh, he’s not here yet Buffy,” Willow explained. “We wanted him to show up after you’d had a little time to relax with us.”  
  
“I’m getting a drink. Anyone want anything?” Xander offered.  
  
Buffy shook her head and turned her attention to the dance floor. It had been months since she had been out there and let loose, and the more she looked at it, the more she wanted to get out there.  
  
“Anyone wanna dance?” she asked the group.  
  
Willow and Tara both nodded, but Anya declined, deciding to wait for Xander before she joined them.  
  
Buffy led the way to the floor and found a space for them. She immediately began moving with the music, lifting her hands over her head and snaking them down as she floated across the floor.

  


~*~*~

  


Spike followed the slayer to the Bronze, and watched from the mouth of an alley as she walked inside. Giving her a few minutes to move about inside, he too went into the club. He immediately headed for the back of the Bronze, where the stairs to the mezzanine were. He slowly climbed them, and found a place in the shadows on the catwalk like platform.  
  
He scanned the crowd, trying to spot her, which he soon did. She was talking with her friends. Moments later the whelp moved off towards the bar and Buffy and the two Wiccan’s headed towards the dance floor. Spike watched her move, captivated by the seductive rhythm of her hips, and the carefree attitude with which she exuded. This was an entirely different girl than the one of a few nights ago. This girl was enjoying herself, and she seemed at ease.  
  
Spike continued to watch her move, mesmerized, his attention only wavering when the other two Scoobies joined them on the dance floor. But they were not alone. A third joined them, an unknown male who leaned towards Buffy and kissed her on the cheek.  
  
Clenching his fists Spike slammed them down onto the railing, the sound ringing out, but not loud enough to be heard over the music. He kept his position, watching. Closely observing the male he didn’t recognise who was making moves on Buffy.  
  
_Don’t fall for the smooth act Buffy… he’s got ulterior motives!_ Spike thought.  
  
Well, if it was him, he would…

  


~*~*~

  


Xander and Anya moved through the crowd and onto the dance floor where Buffy, Willow and Tara were dancing. Xander steered an attractive looking guy towards Buffy and introduced the two.  
  
“Buffy, this is Willow’s friend, Jake. Jake, this is the Buffster,” he said with a grin.  
  
Buffy smiled and held out a hand for him to shake. “Pleased to meet you, Jake.”  
  
Jake returned the smile, and accepted Buffy’s hand, drawing her close so that he could plant a kiss on her cheek. “The pleasure is all mine.”  
  
He stepped back, running a hand through his sandy blonde hair, seemingly speechless. “Willow, you told me your friend Buffy was pretty, you didn’t tell me she was _gorgeous!_” he gushed.  
  
Buffy blushed, and Willow laughed. The song ended and a slower one replaced it. Willow and Tara drew each other close, as did Xander and Anya. Buffy stood awkwardly still for a moment.  
  
“This is embarrassing, I haven’t been set up on a date since High School,” Buffy laughed, trying to hide her nervousness.  
  
Jake nodded slowly, laughing along with her. “It is kind of weird,” he agreed. “But we’ve met, and the others seem to be kind of busy now,” he said, pointing over his shoulder at the other two couples who were now moving along to the music. “Can I have this dance?”  
  
Buffy stared at him in surprise for a moment then nodded her acceptance. Jake moved closer, lifted her arms around his neck and placed his on the small of her back as they began to sway to the music.

  


~*~*~

  


“Damn it!” Spike watched on in fury as the new guy wrapped his arms around Buffy.  
  
He began pacing the catwalk, tossing up between staying where he was and moving downstairs and cutting in on the dance. He knew that Buffy would be less than thrilled if he ruined her night, but he didn’t know if he could stand by and watch someone else slide in and grab what it was that he so wanted desperately. But at the same time, he didn’t want to worsen his chances by upsetting her.  
  
_Who am I kidding?_ He knew he didn’t have a chance with her, but that wasn’t going to stop him from trying.  
  
“Bloody hell,” he muttered.  
  
Looked like he was staying put.

  


~*~*~

  


The song ended and Buffy and Jake parted. Jake tipped his head in thanks, and offered her his hand as he started to head back to the table after the others. Buffy accepted and walked behind him.  
  
A tingling sensation went up her spine, and she had the distinct feeling that _someone_ was watching her. But, she was in a busy club… it could be anyone inside. She brushed the feeling off and smiled when they joined the rest of the group at the table.  
  
“So Jake, tell us a little about yourself for Buffy’s benefit.” Willow grinned.  
  
Jake obliged and went on to tell the group how he was planning on going to medical school, about his family, and how he and Willow came to know each other.  
  
“So here I am, walking out of the lecture hall when a blur of red hair rushes past. She bumped into me and almost knocked me over!” he added with a chuckle.  
  
“I did not!” Willow protested.  
  
Tara patted her girlfriend’s hand. “It’s okay sweetie, just admit it.”  
  
Willow shrugged. “Well, you should have been moving faster, I was in a hurry!” she protested.  
  
Buffy laughed along with the others, surprised at how at ease she found herself. She was having fun, something she hadn’t expected. Jake was sweet.  
  
“So Jake, medical school huh? What’s your dream job?” Buffy asked curiously.  
  
“My ultimate goal is to become a field surgeon, possibly work for the Navy or Army.”  
  
A hush went over the group, and the smile slipped from Buffy’s face as she looked to the floor, memories of Riley flooding in. She stood up and excused herself from the table, and quickly walked towards the toilets near the back of the stage.  
  
Jake noticed the sudden change in everyone, and after Buffy was out of earshot he gave Willow a confused look. “What did I do? Did I say something wrong?”  
  
“No, it’s just that… Buffy’s ex-boyfriend was in the army, and things didn’t end so well,” Willow explained, trying to keep it vague.  
  
“Those species-bigoted commandoes in the special ops force asked him to join them on a mission giving him twenty-four hours notice. They were fighting and he didn’t tell Buffy until his transport was just about to leave, and when she didn’t accept his ultimatum he left and shattered her heart into a million tiny pieces. Plus before this he was letting vam—”  
  
Xander clamped a hand over Anya’s mouth before she said too much. “That’s my girlfriend, always ready to give too much information,” he laughed awkwardly.  
  
“Oh,” came Jake’s response, before a slight frown crossed his face at her choice of words. She had a way with speech...  
  
“That’s kinda harsh.” He looked towards the direction she had walked in, worry in his eyes. “I didn’t mean to bring up bad memories. Do you think she’ll be okay?”  
  
Willow nodded, as did Xander. “She’ll be fine, she just needs a little time to herself. But she’ll be back!” Willow said the last part enthusiastically for show, but secretly she was wondering whether she should follow after her or not.

  


~*~*~

  


Spike watched the group closely as they laughed and talked as they sat around the table, trying to control the mixture of rage and jealousy that was boiling inside of him. Then things took a sudden change. Buffy’s face fell, and she hurriedly left the table and moved towards backstage, leaving the would-be lover boy and her friends looking rather awkwardly, eyes trained on the departing slayer.  
  
“And that would be my exit cue…”  
  
He descended the stairs from the catwalk quickly and pushed through the crowd as he moved towards the back of the stage. He slipped a cigarette out of his pocket and put it between his lips, and had his lighter in his hand ready as a cover.  
  
Sure enough there she was, leaned up against a wall, fresh tears rolling down her cheeks. She looked up when he moved towards her, her eyes glistening with more on the verge of falling.  
  
“What are you doing here Spike?” she asked miserably.  
  
He opened his hand to show the lighter and tilted his head. “No room out there to smoke in peace,” he said matter-oh-factly. He removed the cigarette and pocked it along with his lighter.  
  
“You all right, pet?” he asked with a little more concern in his voice.  
  
Spike inched forward slowly, until he was standing directly in front of her, a mere few centimetres away. He looked down at her, willing her to look at him, to talk to him.  
  
“I… he…” she started then stopped, her voice choked with emotion. “One of Willow’s friends is with us, ah… Jake... he was telling us how he wanted to be a field surgeon. _In the army_,” she added with emphasis. “It just made me think of Riley and how he… how he….”  
  
_How he left you…_ Spike thought, but he kept his mouth shut.  
  
“How he… _left_… so suddenly,” she finally finished. “I guess it still hurts.” Buffy lowered her gaze to the floor, trying to stop the images of that night from flashing through her mind, and failing. She was running, trying to catch up to him, she was almost there, but the helicopter was lifting into the air. She shouted his name, but he didn’t hear her, or he ignored her… it didn’t really matter which one. He was gone.  
  
A tear broke free from her eye and slipped down her cheek.  
  
Spike reached up hesitantly with his left hand, and used the back of his fingers to gently brush the tears away.  
  
“Shhh…” he shushed gently. “It’s okay pet. He didn’t know how lucky he was. He didn’t _deserve_ you,” he vowed, a little of his anger seeping into his words.  
  
Buffy looked up at Spike, seeing the fury in his eyes and for a second wondered why he was being so nice to her, considering her treatment of him the other night. She hadn’t exactly been nice to him, yet here he was.  
  
“Spike, I—” she started, but he lifted a hand up to stop her.  
  
“It’s not necessary,” he soothed. He moved his hand from in front of her face to her right shoulder, and touched her softly, trailing his fingers all the way down to her hand.  
  
Buffy flinched from his touch and tried to step away from him, which only brought her closer to him. Spike inhaled sharply as her warm body brushed against his as she squeezed her way passed him.  
  
“I should be getting back,” she announced quickly, as soon as she was a safe distance away from him.  
  
“You don’t have to—”  
  
“Goodnight, Spike,” she farewelled, cutting him off.  
  
Spike stood frozen in his place for a moment, wondering how that had all happened so fast. The sensation of her warm body brushing against his had sent shivers down his spine; by the time he could react she had slipped free and disappeared. He kicked the nearby boxes, sending them scattering across the floor.  
  
Walking in the opposite direction he left through the backstage exit and walked off into the alleyway.

  


~*~*~

  


“I’m sure she’ll be right back!” Willow assured a few minutes later when Buffy still hadn’t shown. “She’s probably just gone to the bathroom.”  
  
“Or to the back exit,” Anya muttered, not quietly enough.  
  
Xander glared at his girlfriend, then smiled apologetically at Jake. “I’m sure Will’s right, you know, she’s probably just—”  
  
“Gone,” finished Jake. “It’s okay, really. I should probably head home now anyway, I’ve got an early start for classes tomorrow. Tell her it was a pleasure meeting her.” He waved to the group and then walked towards the exit.  
  
“Well, that was... tense,” Tara said summing up the situation. Willow nodded agreeing with her.  
  
Anya was sitting beside Xander, sulking for having been told off twice in a matter of minutes. He just had this look, a look that told her she’d said or done something wrong, and it hurt. Xander didn’t understand how difficult it was sometimes to get used to this tact thing. Anya looked up from her empty cup to ask for a refill when she saw Buffy walking back to the table, looking a little like she had been crying.  
  
“Hey guys, I’m sorry, I—” Buffy didn’t a quick headcount and realized that someone was missing. Jake had left.  
  
“He felt awkward about that slip of words, and decided to call it a night,” Willow explained when she saw Buffy confused look.  
  
_Now I’m driving guys I hardly know away…? Nice one._ Buffy scolded herself.  
  
“Maybe I should follow after him?” she suggested.  
  
Willow nodded. “He only left a minute or so ago, you might catch him outside.”  
  
Buffy smiled quickly at her friends, then left them at the table as she weaved amongst the crowd towards the door.

  


~*~*~

  


Spike wandered around from the band exit at the back of the Bronze and into the alley, as he walked around to the front of the club. He lit up a smoke, watching the door as people began to exit. One person he had _not_ expected to see leaving was the ‘Casanova’. He seemed to be in a hurry as well, fishing quickly through his pockets for something. A cell phone soon appeared.  
  
Wanting to take a closer look Spike leapt up onto the roof of one of the buildings that ran alongside the road he was travelling on, keeping an eye and an ear out for what the guy was up to. He was walking along quite quickly, and seemed to be anxious to speak to whomever it was he was dialling on the cell.  
  
“Contact has been made, it was as easy as you said,” he spoke into the phone, a leisurely grin spreading across his face as he slowed around the corner.  
  
There was a pause, obviously he was listening to the person on the other end of the line, and Spike wished he could hear both ends of the conversation.  
  
“It’s going to be almost _TOO_ easy,” he added with a laugh. “I’ll continue to keep contact with the target, and will wait until your arrival.”  
  
Spike had heard enough. He had _known_ this guy was dirty. Well, he hadn’t known, but he had suspected as much. Okay, not so much suspected, as in hoped. Because if he was; then the guy would have no chance with Buffy. And now he knew something was up. The guy ended the call and continued walking. Spike dropped from the roof he was walking on and landed right in his path.  
  
Jake jumped backwards, surprise flashing on his face. Spike looked at him for a moment with a penetrating gaze before he stepped toward him. He grabbed him by the shirt collar and dragged him to the edge of the building, close to the mouth of an alleyway.  
  
“Jake is it?” he asked with a raised eyebrow, letting the guy go. “Consider this a warning, stay away from Buffy.”  
  
“Who… who are you?” Jake stammered.  
  
“A friend. Just keep away from her. Got it?” Spike poked Jake in the chest, hard, letting him know he was serious. His flinch when the chip fired was slight, but it was there, warning him not to push his luck.  
  
“Jake,” a female voice called from behind him.  
  
Jake spun to see Buffy walking towards him, and when he turned back in the direction he had been facing, the blond guy who had appeared from out of nowhere was gone. He looked around a little, confused.  
  
Buffy stopped when she was standing almost beside him. “Hey, look about before—”  
  
“Did you see that guy?” he asked, still looking for him.  
  
“What guy?” Buffy asked confused. “I didn’t see anyone.”  
  
Jake looked once more, and then turned his attention back to Buffy, his objective. “No-one, it was no-one,” he brushed off. “You were saying?”  
  
She looked at him curiously for a second before she continued. “I just wanted to apologise about before. I’ve just had a rough couple of weeks and then you made mention of the army… and I guess I wigged a little.” She took a deep breath, glad to have that explained. “So, I’m sorry.”  
  
Jake waved it off. “Not a problem, really. I understand,” he added softly. “Anyway, I really should get going, I’ve got an early class tomorrow morning.”  
  
Buffy nodded. “Alright, as long as we’re good here?”  
  
“We’re good,” he responded. Sticking his hands into his pockets searching for something, a smile crossed his face when he found what he was after, a business card.  
  
“My number,” he informed as he handed it to her. “Call me sometime.”  
  
Buffy nodded, accepting the card. “I will. Goodnight.”  
  
“Goodnight Buffy, it was a pleasure to meet you,” he repeated his earlier sentiments with a grin, then turned and walked away.

  


~*~*~

  


Spike watched from deep in the alleyway, hearing every word of the encounter. The boy didn’t appear to listen to advice. He guessed he’d just have to be more convincing next time…

  


~*~*~

  


Spike paced his crypt, trying to decide what to do. What Buffy would want most, and how to tell her without some of the blame being deflected his way. The boy just wasn’t who he said he was. And she should know about it. But the last time he told her something she should know, was when he’d taken her to that nest where Soldier Boy had been letting vamps feed off him to get a rush. And not only had that crushed her, but Buffy had blamed him for showing her.  
  
He finally stopped pacing when he came to a decision. He wasn’t going to tell her. Not yet. Not until he had the proof. And maybe he would be able to find a way to make the fool blow his own cover. The edges of Spike’s lips curled up. Now that was a better plan.


End file.
